Drabbles: The Life of Yami Marik
by scrambled-eggs-at-midnight
Summary: Ever wonder what Yami Marik does in his spare time? Rated T for silly humor and some interesting language.
1. Mind Crush!

"All right Marik," Bakura said to his partner in crime. "Do we have everything?"

Marik nodded and looked at the items at his feet.

"Ketchup?"

"Check."

"Scissors?"

"Check."

"Mokuba?"

Marik grinned and glanced at the small child standing next to him. "Double check."

Bakura smiled evilly. "Let's get to work then."

_One hour later…_

"Yami! Yami help me!"

"Oh my god, Mokuba, what happened?"

Mokuba dropped to his knees. "They were everywhere. Everything's gone. I couldn't stop them."

"What was everywhere?"

Mokuba shuddered. "The zombies." With that, the child collapsed.

Yami looked toward the building where he knew two certain someones were hiding. Raising his voice he called, "Someone is _so _getting a mind crush for this!"

Marik and Bakura heard him and looked at each other. "Oh shit."


	2. This is my BOOMbox!

"Hey, Yami?"

"Yes, Yugi?"

"Why are our bushes swearing?"

Yami glanced out the window. "They're not. It's Marik."

"Oh. Tell him to go away."

Yami opened the window and leaned out. "Marik, What are you doing here?"

Marik started. "N-nothing."

"And what's in the box?"

"Umm…Yugi's alarm clock?"

"Why's it ticking?"

Marik rolled his eyes. "'Cause it's an alarm clock!"

"Yugi's alarm clock is _digital_. It doesn't tick."

"Oh."

Several seconds passed.

"Well, his old one broke, so I bought him another one. It ticks," said Marik.

The ticking got louder.

Marik jumped. "Um, I have to go… babysit Bakura's tarantula. Here, catch!"

He threw the box at Yami and ran.

"What a weirdo," muttered Yami.

Yami opened the box.

_Ka-BOOM!_

"… Dammit."


	3. Just a Trim?

"You had seriously better have a good explanation this time," Malik said.

"And by 'good explanation' we do _not _mean 'Yami dared me too,'" Ryou added.

Marik and Bakura looked at each other.

"Weeeeell," Marik started.

Bakura elbowed him in the side. "Shut up."

"What? I was just going to tell them that we were walking down the street, minding our own business, when Kaiba came up to us and started yelling at us something about burning up his car, which of course we would _never _do."

Ryou rolled his eyes. "Of course you wouldn't."

Realizing defeat, Bakura added, "Anyway, he was getting really annoying, so I pulled out the razor I happened to have in my back pocket."

Ryou paled. "Oh god, you didn't."

"Relax, landlord, I didn't kill him. Mr. Kaiba just won't be needing a haircut for a _very_ long time."


	4. A Life of Crime

"All right, lady, you have half a minute. Fork 'em over. Now."

The woman behind the counter of the convenience store trembled. She had never been the victim of a robbery before. Especially not one like this.

"Hurry up! I haven't got all day!"

The woman looked up at the robber, a tall blond man who could probably snap her in half like a toothpick. She could tell he was getting impatient: he kept switching his gun from hand to hand and tapping his foot.

_I don't get paid nearly enough for this, _she thought.

Slowly, doing her best not to make any sudden movements, she reached under the counter and pulled out an economy-sized tub of chocolate chip cookies.

"Whoo hoo!" The man immediately dropped his gun, attacked the cookies, and ran out the door. A moment later, another stranger with long white hair walked casually into the store. He flipped the cashier a few dollars, said, "Sorry about the inconvenience," and strolled back out, calling, "Okay Marik, you won the bet. Now give me a damn cookie!"


	5. The Uses of Cereal

"Um, Marik? What exactly are you doing?"

Marik looked up from his carefully constructed pile of Cheerios and blinked. "Huh?"

Ishizu sighed. "I said, what are you—"

"INCOMING!" Ishizu stopped mid-sentence and leapt backward just in time to avoid being hit by a shower of fruit loops.

Bakura popped up from behind the couch and walked over to face Marik.

"There. I told you so. Fruit loops are ten times better than Cheerios for ambushing people."

Marik shrugged. "Yes, but Cheerios have possibilities too."

"Like what?"

Marik grinned.

Ishizu backed away slowly, beginning to fear for her life.


	6. Written By Yami Marik

Today's chapter is entitled,

How to Annoy the Crap Out of Everyone You Meet

By Yami Marik

Ask them their name. Every time they give it to you, ask them to please repeat it, since you couldn't hear them the first two dozen times.

Stare at them the entire time they're talking. When they finally stop blabbering to ask you what's wrong, simply shake your head and say, "Oh it's nothing, please go on." Continue staring.

Talk fast and loud and in run on sentences. (Ex: "'causeIlovecheezitsdon'tyoulovecheezits?")

Make sure you tell them every little detail of your life. Don't leave out _anything._

If all of the above fails, just take them by the hand, lead them over to the nearest record store, strap them to a chair, and plug them into some good ol' fashioned Ke$ha.

Anyway, have fun bugging the shit out of people. Oh, and just so you know, this list is possessed. Anyone who reads it is forced to do the evil bidding of his/her new master, me.

A message from Yami Marik, who is now in control of your puny mortal minds.

Now go forth and bring me cookies.


	7. Ice Cream

One day, when everyone was sitting around doing absolutely nothing, like usual, Marik came up with a totally inane question instead of using his incredible evil intellect for something actually useful.

"Malik?"

"Yes, Marik, what is it?"

"Is ice cream supposed to be blue?"

Malik blinked. "What?"

Marik shrugged. "I was wondering if ice cream was supposed to be blue." He held up a carton of ice cream labeled _Blue Moon. _"Because this just kind of seems wrong."

"Um, Marik?"

"Yes?"

"Why does it matter?"

Marik shrugged.

Malik chalked it up to insane whims and sighed. "Okay, whatever. It's not like I have anything else to do with my life. Let's go find out, I guess."

So Malik and Marik asked their friends.

Yami said, "Well, when I was in Egypt, we didn't exactly have ice cream, 'cause every time we tried to make it, it would either melt or the gators would get it. I guess it could be blue. Sure, why not. Blue is a cool color anyway."

Yugi's response was something along the lines of "Yeah, ice cream can be blue. It can be whatever it wants to be, no matter what people say about it. I believe in you, ice cream!"

"What the fuck does ice cream have to do with anything important?" Bakura said, in the first display of logic in this entire adventure. "Hell, when I was little, we didn't even have ice cream! The closest thing to ice cream we had was—"

"Bakura, of course you didn't have ice cream," Ryou said. "You're five thousand years old. You don't even like ice cream anyway!

"Of course I don't like ice cream! I can't do anything to it! I can't light it on fire, I can't blow it up, I can't even use it as a fucking paper weight!"

"Um, guys?" Malik said. "We're kind of short on time here. I mean, originally, these things were supposed to be, like, a hundred words, so—"

"Hold everything!"

There was an awkward silence.

"Ahem. Hi, it's the author. Because apparently, this story is so short on creativity that it has to resort to breaking the fourth wall in a ridiculously cliché attempt at humor. Seriously, guys, arguing about _ice cream?_ Is this what we've been reduced to? God, go, I don't know, play some card games! There hasn't been a single game of Duel Monsters in this fic so far. It's practically a crime. Isn't this the _Yu-Gi-Oh_! fandom, or am I in the wrong place?"

"We're more of a 'stupid humor and dumb jokes' sort of fic, to be honest," Marik said. "This chapter used to end with you telling us not to disrespect the ice cream and then going on a dumb rant."

"… Wow, really?"

"Really."

"This is kind of meta, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"… And I should probably scrap this entire chapter, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, the rest of us thought that at the beginning."

Then everyone went and played card games for the rest of eternity, and they all lived happily ever after, or some bullshit.

The end.


	8. Consequences

"Marik, you are an idiot."

"Thanks, Bakura. I love you too."

"I mean it, Marik. You'll get yourself jailed again, and Malik'll probably beat the shit out of me for it."

"What so you're saying you can't take out _Malik_?"

"Oh, just shut up."

"Well, since it bugs you so much, I should just keep going, but we've reached our destination."

It was true. Marik and Bakura walked up the porch steps of a quaint, white-fenced, happy-looking house. The perfect home.

"This place sucks."

"Don't be a chicken, Bakura. Go hide somewhere and prepare to bolt if something goes wrong."

"If? Don't you mean when?" Marik ignored him, rang the doorbell, and grinned when a little old lady opened the door.

" Can I help you?"

Marik grinned again and reached into his coat. "Yes, actually, you can. Give me all of your candy now."

Grandma glared at him. "And why should I do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'm really going to regret what happens next. In, fact, I—"

THUMP.

Now, Marik probably should have been extremely annoyed right now. He would have been, too, except he was lying unconscious on the floor.

Bakura came running up the steps. "What on earth did you do to him?"

"He was being rude, so I hit him over the head with a frying pan."

"Oh."

Marik began to stir. "Ow. What was that for?"

The lady ignored him and said, "Now, I want both of you to come inside so we can call someone to pick you up. I'll tell them exactly what happened, and they can punish you as they see fit."

So it was a very subdued duo that traipsed into the house and gave up Malik's cell number (with the help of threatening cookware.) Several minutes later, Malik drove up in Ishizu's car and honked the horn angrily, looking like he was ready to chop them both up in a blender.

As they jogged down to the car, Bakura asked, "What were you even going to do?"

"I was gonna pretend to pull a gun on her."

"Do you even _own _a gun?"

"Nope."

"You two are in so much trouble," Malik started as soon as they got in the car.

Bakura contemplated just going back to the house and taking the frying pan.

At least frying pans couldn't _talk._


	9. The Proposition

"_Hello?"_

"Hello, Kaiba."

"_Who is this? I have lawyers, you know!"_

"Don't I know it. Relax, it's not like I'm not trying to sell anything. Actually, I was hoping you could help me out."

"_Is this Marik? I swear, to god, I will kill you for what you did to my car."_

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"_And my hair."_

"Hey, that one wasn't me!"

"_And for corrupting Mokuba."_

"That kid was messed up to begin with. Look, will you help me already?"

"_Why would I want to do that?"_

" Because it involves forcing Yami to do things against his will."

"…"

"_Fine, but only if you can get him to duel me and hand over whatever remains of his dignity."_

"Deal."


	10. The Call

Mwah ha ha ha, chapter two. Let's see who Marik enlists…

* * *

"_Hello?"_

"Hello, Kaiba."

"_Who is this? I have lawyers, you know!"_

"Relax, it's not like I'm not trying to sell anything. And we all know you have lawyers. Actually, I was hoping you could help me out."

"_Is this Marik? I swear, to god, I will fucking kill you for what you did to my car."_

"Yeah, sorry about that ."

"_And my hair."_

"Hey, that one wasn't me!"

"_And for corrupting Mokuba."_

"Look, will you help me already?"

"_Why would I want to do that?"_

" Because it involves forcing Yami to do things against his will."

"…"

"_Fine."_

* * *

Once again, Emily, if you want to count, by all means count. It's one hundred.

So there.


	11. The Persuasion

"Oh,Yami! It's your arch-nemesis. Remember Seto Kaiba?"

"Kaiba? What do you want?"

"I want you to come out and duel me! Just one more time. I don't even care if you cheat."

"For the love of god, Kaiba! We _all know _you're never going to beat me. Give it up! I'm just naturally better than you!"

"If you come out and duel me, I'll pay you."

"You really think I can be bought that way?"

"Yes."

"…How much?"

Kaiba named a sum.

"Fine. Let's make this quick; I'm watching General Hospital."

Yami stepped out of his house.


	12. The Answer

"ATTACK!"

Marik jumped out from behind a bush, dragging a chair and a couple of ropes. Needless to say, Yami was trapped pretty quickly. He glowered as Marik approached him.

Yami glared. "What is the meaning of—is that a clip board? Why do you have a clip board?"

Marik smiled evilly. "I told you that you were going to answer my question. Now start talking."

Yami slumped in his chair, defeated. "Fine. Do your worst."

Marik held up his clip board.

He glanced at the question.

He turned to Yami.

"Do you think the kids should just give the Trix Rabbit the darned cereal?"

"What."

"Seriously."

"_That's _your question!"

"Yeah."

"I… yes. Yes, they should."

"'Kay, thanks."

Yami considered seeking professional help.

For Marik.

"Hey! Where are you going? Untie me!"

"Not yet," Kaiba said, snapping on his duel disk.

Yami groaned.

Then he proceeded to kick Kaiba's ass while tied to a chair.

All in all, it was a rather typical day.


	13. Driver's Ed

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely-positively-one-hundred-percent sure?"

"For the love of fuck Bakura, _yes_."

"Fine, but if you get us killed I am going to murder you."

"Relax, we'll be _fine. _Just do what I say, okay?"

"All right, but -."

"No more buts."

So Bakura shut up. "Okay, Marik, what do I do first?"

"Well, let's see…" Marik said thoughtfully. "Uh…here. Grab that shifty-thingy."

"What, this?"

Marik nodded. "Yes. Now…pull on it."

"Done."

"Great. Okay, put your hands on the wheel…here."

"Here?"

"Yup."

"Now what?"

"Okay, this is the best part; push down on the gas pedal_ really_ hard until it makes a 'vroomy' noise!"

Bakura pushed down on the pedal.

As they slammed into the garage's back wall, Bakura reflected that he probably should have seen that coming.

Amid the smoke and rubble, Bakura glared at Marik, who cackled. "I just love the vroomy noise."

When he came home later, Malik was not actually all that disheartened by his totaled garage; he had been meaning to build a new one anyway.

He was not worried by the wrecked car; that was Ishizu's.

Marik and Bakura, however, knew enough to be well out of site when Malik discovered what they had done to his precious motorcycle.


	14. The Exorcist

**A/N: Just in case you're wondering, **_**The Lies of Locke Lamora**_** is a book about a group of thieves who call themselves the Gentleman Bastards, which is also the name of the series. I seriously think that this is Bakura's book. You really should read it.**

* * *

Yami had been in some sticky situations before. These included being tricked into thinking the world was being invaded by zombies, almost being obliterated by exploding alarm clocks, and being captured and interrogated by an ice cream-crazed psychopath— _twice— _but he had to admit, this one took the cake.

"Now, evil demon spirit," his captor said, brandishing a thick book, "I banish you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, back to the darkest regions of Hell, whence you came! Unless, of course, you have a restraining order preventing you from going near Satan. I know I do, and lemme tell you, it's a pain in the ass."

Yami sighed. Nope, being exorcised was definitely not the way he wanted to spend his Saturday morning. "For the last time," he said tiredly, "untie me."

Marik, who happened to be the one holding the book and shouting (big surprise there), grinned and shook his head. "I don't think so, Yami. See, it would kind of be defeating the purpose of this…exercise… if I released the victim. So I'm gonna have to say no."

Yami grimaced and strained at the ropes holding him to the chair, thinking that if he spent any more time tied up he'd end up with permanent rope burns on his arms. "Marik, you are asking for a one-way trip to the shadow realm," he began, but Marik cut him off with a laugh.

"Not if I have anything to say about it! Now," he shouted, holding his book high, "be gone, unclean one! The power of Scott Lynch compels you!"

Yami started to roll his eyes, then blinked. "Wait; the power of…Scott…Lynch?"

Marik frowned. "It's supposed to be done with a bible," he said, "but… do you remember that big bonfire in the backyard yesterday?" Yami nodded. "Well," Marik continued, "_The Lies of Locke Lamora_ was the only book that Bakura wouldn't let me burn."

Yami started to nod in understanding, but was stopped by a sudden thought. "…Bakura reads _books_?" Marik shrugged, and from some other room they heard Bakura call, "It's a good story, all right? Now hurry up and get rid of him, Marik, his voice is getting annoying!"

Marik smiled. "Of course. Go, Scott Lynch! Unleash your fury on this evil spirit!"

Yami closed his eyes.

When Bakura walked in later to reclaim his book and saw both Marik and Yami lying unconscious on the floor, he was not surprised.

"That's what you get for messing with Scott Lynch," he said, shrugging. Then he grabbed his book and walked away, leaving them on the floor.


	15. IOU

It was right there.

_Right. There._

The Millennium Puzzle.

Marik couldn't believe his luck. A life time of waiting, and there it was, just sitting there, right on the kitchen table. Well, he wasn't about to let this chance get away. He tiptoed into the kitchen, took a deep breath…

…and grabbed it.

He stared at it for a moment, contemplating the sheer awesomeness of the moment. It was finally his!

Slowly, he started to move the pieces, trying to unlock the puzzle.

_Click._

_Click, click._

_Click._

Wait. That last click…he didn't do that. Or the following click. Or the several after that.

"What the…?"

_BOOM__**!**_

Yami and Yugi stepped out from behind the house and looked at the remains of the bomb, Yami holding the _real_ Millennium Puzzle. "See, Yugi? I told you it would work."

"Yup, you were right. I'll never doubt you again."

"Too bad he got away, though."

"Well, there's always next time, and anyway, it's going to take him ages to re-grow that hair."

"Revenge is sweet, aibou. Revenge is sweet."


	16. Even With Strawberries

It is a quiet day. All is going well. The birds are singing. Two someones are sitting at a kitchen table. One is enjoying a bowl of yogurt. Then the other speaks.

"Ryou?"

"Yes, Marik?"

"Are you eating yogurt?"

"Yes, Marik, I am."

"Oh."

No more words are spoken. Ryou doesn't know what to think. Marik speaks again.

"I have something I need to tell you."

"Oh, really? What might that be?"

The one called Marik takes a deep breath.

"I love you almost as much as I love yogurt."

There is silence. Ryou manages to choke out a word.

"P-pardon?"

"Yogurt. It's soft, and creamy, and sweet. Just like you."

"I— what?"

"Will you be my yogurt, Ryou?"

"I— I— uh—"

Marik leaves Ryou, wide eyed and shocked, to ponder this question.

In the next room, Malik turns to Bakura and says:

"How long until we tell him Marik _hates_ yogurt?"


	17. Happy St Patrick's Day!

**A/N: A St. Patrick's day story.**

* * *

_Sneak._

"Marik?"

_Freeze._

"Yes, hikari?"

_Sneak, sneak, sneak._

"Remind me to hit you the next time you bring anything into this house."

_Chuckle._

"Aw, but look at him, Malik! He's so cute, and he needs a home!"

_Stop. Cute?_

"Marik, you have him chained to the wall."

_Grin. Not anymore._

"Well, yeah, but if I let him go, he'll run away!"

_Tip-toe!_

"Marik. I told you, you can't keep people chained up. They don't like it."

_Scoff. Indeed._

"But how am I supposed to get him to tell me where his treasure's at if he leaves?"

_Stupid, greedy humans. _

"Marik, I'm sure the little man doesn't want you to take his gold."

"Who are you callin' little, ye stupid giant?"

Malik froze. Marik blinked. And the leprechaun laughed at them and ran away into the darkness.


	18. My Heroes

_Click._

"Dammit," Marik said. "I'm all out of bullets." He threw down his gun and picked up another from the pile next to him. "How are you doing, Bakura?"

"Well, I finally got the grenade launcher set up. What does our opposition look like?"

"They're still advancing. I swear, I shot one of 'em _twenty times_ in the gut, and he's still dragging himself over here. Don't these things have any sense of self-preservation?"

"Yeah, but you forgot what we have here."

"What?"

Bakura smiled and pointed to a teenage girl tied to a tree behind him. "We have their object of adoration."

"Ah. I see. Oh, hey, look. There's something in the trees."

"My, my, it must think it's sneaky. Do you think we should shoot it down?"

"Naw, let's see what it does first."

At that moment, something swooped down from the trees, muscles rippling, eyes flashing, body…_sparkling?_

"It is I, Edward Cullen! And I'm here to take back what's mine!"

"Edward!" the girl screamed.

"Bella, don't worry. I'll take care of these two."

"Wait a minute, time out," Marik said, stepping between the two. "Did you just say that you _owned_ her?"

"I merely meant that she is my love, and no one else can have her."

"There, you just did it again."

"Did what?"

"Called her 'yours.'"

"Look, I haven't got time for this. I have to rescue my—"

"See, there you go again. Bakura, please tell me you heard that."

"Loud and clear, Marik. So, remind me, what do most girls want us to do with their self-centered, egotistical, too-pretty-for-words boyfriends?"

Marik smiled innocently. "Why, get rid of them, of course."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?"

Later, when Edward Cullen had been reduced to a smoking pile of sparkly flesh, and Bella had long since passed out, still tied to the tree, Marik and Bakura relaxed, basking in the warmth of a job well done.

"Hand me that stake, will you? The Harry Potter 'verse has a Vampire-Sue infestation."

"Cool. We taking the car, or the bike?"

"Tch, the bike. Much more badass."

"Sounds good. Hey, by the way; what do we plan on doing with Disco Ball over there?"

"Meh, let the vultures get him. They deserve _something_."

So Marik and Bakura rode off into the sunset, leaving Edward Cullen where he would terrorize this world no more.


	19. Cat Burglary

**For my lovely beta, 'cause it was her idea.**

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Marik, what are you doing?"

Marik quickly slipped the tube of antiseptic into his pocket and turned around to face the person leaning in the doorway behind him.

"Hello, Malik. How are you today?"

Malik rolled his eyes. "Aaand you've officially done something wrong. I can tell by that lovely tone of voice. Now, I repeat; what are you doing?"

Marik ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, you know. Same old same old."

"What are you doing with that antiseptic?"

Marik looked down at the tube. "What, this? Nothing, nothing at all."

"_Marik."_

Marik made a face. "Sheesh, someone's grumpy. I'm bringing it to Bakura."

Malik sighed. "I'll probably regret asking, but why does Bakura need antiseptic?"

"He… had a bit of an accident."

"Oh really?"

"Involving cat burglary."

"Cat burglary."

"Yes."

"Just when I thought he couldn't be a bigger idiot. What did he do, forget to wrap his hand before he punched through the window? Trip over a glass table? Have a run-in with the house pit bull?"

"Er—not exactly."

Just then, Bakura came storming down the hallway. Malik did a double take. "Bakura—what the hell—?! You look like someone threw you in a meat grinder!"

Bakura growled at him. "Here's some advice for you, Malik; when someone tells you to try cat burglary… don't try and steal an actual cat. It doesn't work." With that, he grabbed the tube of antiseptic from Marik and marched out the door, not looking back.

Later, the neighbors swore you could have heard Malik laughing from a mile away.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Reviews are like cake. I like cake. (That's a hint.)**

**-Eggy**


	20. Random Writing Prompts

**AN: Ten prompts. Each one inspired a sentence or two (or six) about the adventures of our lovely, psychotic friend. Let the chaos ensue.**

…**Okay, I sound like a television host. Anyway, don't own Marik. Or any of the other characters. Or the show itself. All I have is this crappy computer. =( So sad.**

…

**The thirsty strawberry that went out to eat**

Marik couldn't exactly put it into words, but there was something strange about that strawberry trailing him on his way to the restaurant. If only he could put his finger on it….

**A flame thrower, a discarded book, and a chocolate doughnut**

Marik smiled, twirling the flame thrower in his hand. "Looks like it's time for payback, Bakura," he muttered, aiming at a thick book perched haphazardly on a bedside table. "This is what you get for stealing my doughnut, bitch."

**A campfire, an old car, and a shower curtain**

It truly wasn't Marik's fault that Ryou's shower curtain was up in flames. But it made such a good parachute, and it fit perfectly on the car. It was the darned campfire's fault. That's what it was. It just had to jump out in front of his vehicle and ruin his day. Oh, well. Maybe he'd get points for safely landing the car.

**The ancient ****grocery clerk**** that went over the rainbow**

Never again, Marik thought groggily as he sat up. Never again would he let himself be talked into getting high in the middle of a grocery store. Flying old men and rainbows did not, repeat, _did not_, go well together.

**A roll of toilet paper, cat treats, and a mask**

He was armed. He was ready. And there was no way he was going to let that fluffy-haired bastard get the better of him. Smiling evilly, he covered his face, laid out his trap, and began to shake the little box of treats.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty!"

**A tulip, a taxi, and the next-door neighbor**

"Marik, I don't care what you say. She's a traumatized old lady, and I don't think a flower is going to cure the mental images she must have gotten when she saw you get out of the taxi, pick up the freaking _pharaoh,_ and—"

"Hey, now, hold on a minute! I was drunk! I didn't know what I was—"

"Don't give me that, Marik. We all know you had planned on dumping him in that trash can from the very start."

"…Maybe if I gave her _two_ flowers…."

**A rake, an iron gate, and a disguise**

"Marik, you don't look disguised."

"Shh, he's coming!"

"If you can't see me through that horrible mask, I'm rolling my eyes."

"Just hush up and get behind the gate."

Several minutes later, the neighbors could be seen staring in shock/horror/ecstasy at the rake sticking straight out of a very pissed off Yami's hair. From behind the gate, Marik muttered, "Damn it. I should have swung lower."

**A vending machine, a thesaurus, and a candle stub**

"The power of Christ compels you!"

_Oh, no, not again._

"I'm warning you! Come out, foul demon, and bring my chips with you!"

"Marik, what are you doing?"

"Oh, hey there, Malik. I'm trying to exorcise this vending machine."

"Marik, don't you remember what happened the last time—"

"Don't worry, I've taken precautions. See, look. It's not Scott Lynch this time."

"…Marik, what the hell is_ that_?"

"It's a candle."

"…"

"Okay, it's _practically _a candle. But close enough."

**An iPod, pocket lint, and a wishbone**

"Ha! I win. And now you owe me."

"Fine, fine. I have… uh… this iPod, and… some pocket lint."

"…Gimme the lint. I need more kindling for this bonfire."

"Are you planning on burning _all_ his books?"

"It's the only way. Hand me that lint, will you?"

**The bright, shiny sandwich**

"Marik, I'm not eating that."

"Why not? It's cool-looking!"

"Marik, it's_ sparkling_!"

"Well, yeah, what else is a sandwich made out of our favorite pretty-boy supposed to do?"

"…Are you saying—?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Gimme the sandwich."

"Oh, wait, we left him to the vultures."

"Then who is _this_?"

"…I do not know."

"To the dumpster?"

"Yeah. Good idea."

…

**Thank you very much to the writing prompt generator on "The Writing for Children Recourse Sight." It thought up all of these hilarious prompts. (Except for the last one, which was though of by wickedchik500. Thanks, Love!)**

**So, which was your favorite? Which one did you hate? Lemme know, 'kay? **

**Love you!**

**-Eggy**


	21. Gift of the Three Wise Guys

**For the always lovely, always wonderful wickedchik500 on her birthday. Hugs and kisses, my dear.**

Marik walked into the Drabbles Production Room, rubbing his hands together. "So, what do we got going for today?"

Malik spun his chair in a circle, looking at the script. "Uh… it's the authoress's friend's birthday today. We're supposed to make it 'awesome' That's all Eggy gave us to work with."

"Oh, really, now?" Marik asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, what do we have on this girl?"

Malik shrugged. "Beats me. You got anything, Bakura?"

Bakura scrolled through the list on his computer screen. "Well, she loves acting, singing, and Neil Patrick Harris, and she totally ships me and Malik."

Malik choked and fell out of his chair. "What!"

"Yes, apparently, we make for a smexy couple."

"…Really?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Okay, you two, stop flirting. We need to think of an awesome way to wish wickedchik500 an awesome happy birthday."

"Why don't we just buy her a cake?"

"Gee, Malik, way to be creative."

"I know," Marik said gleefully. "We'll write her a poem!"

"A poem?"

"Sure! Come on, it'll be fun."

"Fine, I'll do it. Bakura?"

"Is there any way I can get out of this?"

"Nope."

"Then let's get writing."

The three of them worked for hours, and finally came up with something they thought was a suitable poem. Here is the finished result.

_We wrote out this poem for you_

_It really wasn't easy to do_

_We sat here for hours_

_Trying to rhyme things with flowers_

_Besides the ones that you already knew_

_Now, this poem has caused us much fright_

_With Eggy yelling, "For God's sake, do it right!"_

_And so here's some advice_

_Never ever try to write_

_With a poet who has a deadline that night_

_So the bottom line is, "Happy Birthday to You!"_

_What, you didn't think we'd come through?_

_And though gifts are quite fine_

_And roses sure are divine_

_We're sure you'd rather have something that's true_

Eggy's /Your friends Marik, Bakura, and Malik

**Love you forever, Fluffy! Happy birthday!**

**-Kitty (AKA Eggy.)**


	22. The Game

**A/N: Sorry.**

* * *

"Hey, Yami! Guess what?"

Yami sighed. Not again. Usually when Marik asked him to "guess what," he ended up on the receiving end of a large slap to the brain. Also on the receiving end of a big fat psychiatrist's bill that took at least three months to pay off. In short, he was more than reluctant to answer the resident psycho's question.

However, if he didn't answer… Yami shuddered. "What is it, Marik?"

Marik grinned. "You just lost The Game."

"And what, pray tell, is 'The Game'?"

"Well," Marik said, grinning, "there are three rules to The Game. One: You're always playing The Game. Two: Whenever you think about The Game, you lose The Game. Three: All losses must be announced."

"But… how do you _win_?"

Marik smiled. "That's the thing, Yami," he whispered. "You. _Can't_."

Yami's face went blank, and Marik giggled as he skipped away, listening happily to the screams that followed him down the street.


	23. Marik of the Opera

_I don't know exactly what happened here, but I've been told that FF dot N is not allowing some people to download this chapter. I honestly don't know what's up with this #%$&ing site, but it's seriously starting to bug me. D: Thanks anyway for your patience. _

**A/N: I must dedicate this lovely little monstrosity to EuphrasieTheOwl, because it was her review that inspired the thing. ^^ Thank you so very much, my dear!**

**Also, no, my dialogue tags did **_**not **_**get up and run away screaming when I wrote this. I left them out on purpose, because they were being mean to me. *Pouts***

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: (Boy, haven't done one of these in a while. Methinks that's a problem.) Anyway, I don't own **_**Yu-Gi-Oh!**_** or its characters nor do I own the ****Phantom of the Opera****.**

"Duuuun! Dum da dum da duuum!"

"Marik, what the hell are you humming?"

Marik grinned. "It's the _Phantom of the Opera_ theme!"

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "The what?"

Marik gaped at him. "You mean you've never seen _The Phantom of the Opera_?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I haven't."

"... We're going to have to remedy this."

Several minutes later, Marik and Bakura were sitting in front of Ryou's TV, eating popcorn and keeping a running commentary on the movie.

"Really, you'd think the girl would be a bit brighter. I mean, some guy shows up in your mirror and you actually follow him?"

"Be quiet, Bakura, or you'll miss all the creepy innuendos in the lyrics."

"Oh, don't worry. I can hear every single one of them. Exactly how much older than her is this guy, anyway? I'll bet he could be her fucking father."

"As a matter of fact..."

"Never mind. I don't actually want to know."

"Oh, come on! There is no way anyone could possibly call that disfigured! He just looks like spent too much time with half his head in a tanning bed!"

"Tch, you look like you spent too much time with your whole _body_ in a tanning bed."

"As opposed to doing what, taking a bath in bleach?"

"Hey, that girl on screen is just as white as I am, and no one seems to be complaining."

"What, so you're comparing yourself to a nineteenth-century French chick?"

"Hell, no! I'm comparing _Ryou_ to a nineteenth-century French chick. It's his body, after all."

"Well, if Ryou's Christine, who are you?"

"I'm the Phantom, duh."

"So, you're trying to seduce Ryou?"

"You're disgusting."

"And you're nothing like the Phantom. You're more like that Raoul guy."

"Naw, that's the Pharaoh; they both have that annoying ability of getting in the way of the cool characters."

"What cool characters? Everybody in this movie is either a bitch, a whiner, or irrelevant to the plot. The closest thing we get to a "cool character" is Madam Giry. Her and the Persian."

"Who?"

"The Persian. He was in the book, and he was probably the sweetest guy there, but the fucktards who made the movie cut him out."

"Wait, you read a book?"

"Hey, you read books, too!"

"But they aren't just _books_. They're Scott Lynch. They have more credibility than any Bible."

"Forgive me if I tell you that that means absolutely nothing, coming from you. Anyway, Ishizu made me. She thinks that making me literate will turn me into a better person."

"... Does that even make sense?"

"Beats me."

"Well... hey, who's that? She looks vaguely familiar..."

"Dammit, it's that annoying Meg girl again. Why the heck is she even in this movie? It's not like she ever does anything."

"She reminds me of the Pharaoh's cheerleader."

"Ew."

"Tell me about it."

"Hey, I think the movie's almost over. See, they've got Raoul chained up on the wall."

"Yeah, like that doesn't scream 'kinky' at all."

"Heh. I'll bet you like that, huh, Bakura?"

"... Oh, gods, the images."

"Aw, did I scare you?"

"Wait, what the hell is he— is he seriously letting them go? Okay, I just lost all respect I ever had for this guy. Why the hell did you make me watch this? It had no plot, the characters were lame, and the music is going to be stuck in my head for the rest of my fucking life."

Marik was silent as the last scene of the movie faded to black and the ending credits began to roll across the screen.

"Truth be told," he said finally, turning to face Bakura, "I just wanted to see your face when I told you they were making a sequel."

**Now that this is done, just let me apologize for all the bashing of the characters and movie here. ^^ I am a POTO fan, really I am. (That Sequel That We Don't Talk About, on the other hand….) This is an **_**affectionate**_** parody.**

**Also, for those of you who don't know anything at all about the book, the Persian is a real character. He was probably the best one, too, but the movie totally kicked him out of the story. (Stupid bastards… *Wanders away muttering.*)**

**Anyway, review, or the Phantom's gonna come and get you! (Okay, not really; he's too busy looking for a dermatologist.)**

**Loves ya'!**

**-Eggy**


	24. Stop Wiggling!

**A/N: Idea's from matt-the-second.**

* * *

_Please answer questions below._

_Your Name: __Malik Ishtar_

_Patient's name: __Marik Ishtar_

_Patient's age: __Don't actually know._

_Patient's sex: __Male._

_Patient's height: __Six feet (without the hair)_

_Patient's complaint: __Concussion_

_Comments_: _He came into our house raving about a "Water Wiggle." A friend of ours explained that Marik was trying to "rid the world of an evil greater than he," and that he was, "willing to give his life for a greater cause." In short, I have no friggin' clue what he was talking about. I suggest sedatives._

The nurse in charge of reading the admission forms sighed. Not again.


	25. It's Always His Fault

The handcuffs around his wrists were less than comfortable, and Marik kicked and thrashed as the two men dragged him forcefully down the hall. Normally he would have been quite able to free himself, but it seemed as though these people were used to their captives putting up a fight; each man was armed to the teeth, and Marik himself was blindfolded, making escape virtually impossible.

(Not that he wasn't trying, of course.)

Marik growled as he was forced around another corner, and he lashed out once again with one of his (steel-toed) boots. He managed to catch one of the guards in the shin, and the man let out a list of well-chosen curse words. Marik cackled.

Still, as he dragged down yet another corridor, Marik couldn't help but wonder what he was being hauled in for this time. Perhaps it was for that car... no, that one was all Bakura, no matter what the witnesses might have said.

Then maybe it was for the... no, never mind, they had already brought him in for that. Anyway, he had never touched that damn cat.

So what…?

Marik heard a door slam open, and he assumed he was being forced into another room. Good. Maybe now he could finally find out why the hell he had been dragged out of his house at twelve o'clock on a Sunday night. It had better be something good. Ooh! Maybe they wanted him to beat someone up. But, no, they could beat him up (vowed to never ever admit that out loud, and quickly scrubbed the thought from his brain), so they could do their own dirty work. He wouldn't help them anyway, stupid rude people who dragged a perfectly respectable psychopath from his bed in the middle of the night without so much as—

"Sit," someone snapped, shoving Marik down into a chair. Someone else ripped the blindfold off him, revealing a man in a trench coat, half hidden by the shadows, and a brightly glowing laptop.

"We've brought you in today," an electronically filtered voice said, "for questioning about the 'Kira' murders."

Marik was not amused.


	26. How Fanfiction Was Saved

**A/N: For that Rebooton thing that went around a while back.**

* * *

"We have a problem."

Marik and Bakura looked up to see Malik enter the room, a grim set to his mouth.

Bakura sighed. "Did we run out of coffee again? Because I swear, if I have to go one more morning with only that 'instant' crap for company, I'm going to—"

"It's worse than that," Malik said, sitting down. "There is a possibility that we're going to get cancelled."

"What?"

"There's this… this thing going around , and it's deleting any story that uses script form, song lyrics, lists, anything it thinks is violating the site's story rules."

"But... that means..."

"It means that _Drabbles: The Life of Yami Marik_ may very well cease to exist in the very near future."

"That can't happen!" Marik wailed. "There are so many things I haven't done yet! Why, I haven't even gotten the chance to get back at Yami for ruining my hair!"

"And you still owe me a new copy of _The Lies of Locke Lamora_," Bakura said sourly. "Remember what you did to the last one?"

"The point is guys," Malik interrupted," that we need a plan. And fast."

"Okay, what are our options?" Bakura asked.

Malik frowned. "That's the problem. The only thing I can think of to do is go to the management, and they don't seem to care whether we live or die."

Marik, who had been surprisingly quiet, suddenly grinned. "I think I have an idea."

_Later..._

"Do you hear me, you bastards? If you lay one finger on this story, or any other story on this damn site, for that matter, I will personally hunt you down and make sure that every last one of you is fired. _Without references._ And I can do that. You know why? Because I am Seto. Freaking. Kaiba. I have more money than _God_. Is that understood? Good. I'm glad we had this talk. Remember, I'm watching you."

Kaiba slammed the phone back down on his desk and glowered up at Malik, Bakura, and Marik. "There. I made some calls, pulled some strings, and pretty much made sure that those fuckers will never be seen on this stupid site ever again."

Malik grinned at him. "Thanks, Kaiba. I knew you secretly loved our little story."

"Don't you dare get mushy on me. I only agreed to help because I still haven't sued your asses for all the stuff you've pulled on me. If we got cancelled, I'd never have the chance."

"Of course that's why you did it, Kaiba. Of course."

And thus fanfiction .net was saved by three nutcases, a secretly-sympathetic asshole, and a shitload of money.

The End.


	27. All's Fair in War and Card Games

**A/N: Oh, god, I am so sorry this took so long to get out. NaNoWriMo planning is eating my life. *shot***

**Avatar contest is still on. Just so ya' know.**

**Pfft. I haven't written crack in so long. I missed it.**

**Disclaimer: I happen to own many things. True, most of them have little to no value, but I'm still allowed to call most of them my own. Sadly, **_**Yu-Gi-Oh!**_** and Taco Bell don't make the list. ;(**

One morning, Marik strolled down the street, looking (as usual) for trouble. Understandably, he found it in the form of Yami.

_Why_? Yami thought. _Why is it always me?_ Sighing, he pulled out his day-planner and wrote down a reminder to meet with his psychiatrist the following day. "Same as always, Marik?"

Marik grinned. "You betcha!"

"Fine. Let's get this over with."

"Okay, here goes! Yami, I challenge you to a duel!"

"I accept your challenge, Marik, because I believe in the Heart of the Cards, and that that, along with my friends, will ensure my victory!"

"Your precious friends aren't here to help you now, Pharaoh! I summon the Winged Dragon of Ra!"

"I counter with... Kuriboh! Along with this special card that I just realized I had because one of my friends gave it to me. It increases both Kuriboh's life points and defense points by over five thousand!"

"What! Impossible! No! You may have defeated me this time, Pharaoh, but I'll be back for my revenge!"

"And I'll beat you again, Marik! With the power of friendship, anything is possible!"

Suddenly, Yami's watch beeped, signaling the end of... some unspecified amount of time. "Oh, time's up," he said, silencing the beeping with a glare. Because he is the Pharaoh. And he can do that.

"You wanna go get lunch or something?"

"Sure. Let's go to Taco Bell."

"Heck no! Taco Bell is disgusting."

"Fiend! How dare you insult Taco Bell? I challenge you to a duel so that I may defend the honor of my favorite greasy fast food restaurant!"

"Bring it on, Puzzle-Boy!"

Lunch now forgotten in favor of more children's card games, Yami and Marik began yet another pointless duel.

And somewhere, hiding under his bed, Yami's psychiatrist wept.


	28. Couples Counseling?

**A/N: Phill the psychiatrist was borrowed from my other fic, "The Pitfalls of the House of Usher". Go read it, and please forgive me for the shameless plug and bad grammar and FF.N for screwing up its formatting. Phill used to be a physician, but... let's just say he wanted something new. The idea for this chapter was given to me by ****SkaleFlapper15****. Thanks a****bunch! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the restaurants mentioned or **_**Yu-Gi-Oh**_**! I do own Phill, though. Say hi, Phill!**

**Phill: *waves***

Phill really hated his job.

It wasn't the hours. He could deal with five a.m. phone calls and the secretaries who didn't know which time was which and couldn't schedule worth a dime. It wasn't the staff. Sure, half of them didn't know how to change a lightbulb and the remaining half were practically good enough to replace him, but he could deal with that. It wasn't even his coworkers, the other doctors and nutcases he shared this building with. No, Phill the psychiatrist was a lot tougher than that. The real problem, then?

The patients.

"And then he insulted Taco Bell! Taco. Bell . As in, the restaurant that the gods created for the sole purpose of making me happy, because I am just that special."

"Hah, please. If the gods wanted to make you happy, all they would have had to do is dangle something shiny in your face and watch you pounce."

"I think you're confusing me with yourself. Which is really hard to do, considering I am me, and you... are you."

You know what? No. This wasn't worth it. These migraines and nightmares and... that's it. Phill was done. He. Was. Leaving.

"Gentlemen," Phill said, standing up, "you need to find yourself a new psychiatric practitioner. I quit."

With that, he stood up, walked right out of the office, and slammed the door.

Yami and Marik looked at each other. "So," Yami said finally, "how many does that make now?"

Marik quickly counted off on his fingers. "Ten."

Yami frowned. "We're not doing so well..."

"...In the last month."

Yami's face lit up. "Score! Who's next?"

"I found an ad in the paper a little while back. We'll probably be able to traumatize him by next Wednesday. If not, we can always recruit Bakura for help. He'll be able to knock our time frame down by at least a third."

"I'm going to take that as a challenge, Marik."

"You're on. You know I still hate you, right?"

"And I you, Marik."

"Okay, just so long as that's cleared up. Wanna go get dinner?"

"Sure. How about Taco Bell ?"

"What!"

"Kidding. Let's do McDonald's."

"I was thinking Burger King..."

"Don't push it."

**Poll: McDonald's vs. Burger King? :D**

**I'm going to try and get something done for the ****Halloween**** Special. If you have any ideas, just bounce 'em over here. ^^**

**Love and stuffs,**

**-Eggy **


	29. Illness: A PreHalloween Special

**A/N: Three hundred reviews, guys. Three. Freaking. Hundred. I'm not worthy! But I love you all anyway! *hugs* You're amazing!**

**So... this isn't technically the Halloween Special, but that **_**will **_**be posted before the holiday is over, I swear! Anyway, this brilliant little thing was actually written **_**for**_** me, by my Jedi Master/ Cyber Soul Mate, **_**the upward glance**_**. Worship his awesomeness, because otherwise, you wouldn't have a chapter at all this week. I just got my spacers put in, in preparation for getting my braces, and I have no motivation to even eat, let alone write. -_- Which is why I love **_**the upward glance**_** to itty bitty little pieces. ^^ (It's also why this is a little late, considering he sent this to me, like, three days ago.) Thanks so much, bebeh!**

-_DING DONG_-

"'Kuraaaaaaaaaaa," Marik whined nasally.

-_DING DONG_-

"'Kuraaaaaaaaaaa," Marik whined nasally, _and_ pathetically.

_-_UBER_ DING DONG-_

"'Kuraaa—"

"Ra dammit, Marik, I got the fucking door the last fucking time!" Bakura tried his best to sound threatening, despite the phlegm.

"But 'Kuraaaaaaaaaaa...this is the good part! The zombies are about to wreak havoc on these characters who aren't integral to the plot!"

"Look Marik. It's bad enough that we're sick on Halloween and can't beat the candy out of stupid little kids, but I am _not_ gonna listen to your bloody whining!"

"Ugh you're acting like such a fuddy duddy. Fine. I'll get the door." Marik wobbled to the door, fetching the huge bowl o' candy, which, of course, they themselves were unable to enjoy. That's not to say Marik hadn't tried. The Kit-Kats didn't taste as good the second time around...

"Trick or Treat!"

"Yeah fuck you—_ACHOO_!—too!" Marik spat as he hurled a heaping handful of candy in the general direction of a ghost, a pumpkin, and a wannabe Dr. Frank-N-Furter. "By the way, your costumes suck major balls!" with that Marik slammed the door. "Hump, ungrateful little shits."

"—_HACKHACKHACK_—Someone's being a sourpuss," Bakura half-heartedly mocked after his coughing fit.

"You know, just for that," Marik swiped Bakura's tub of Vick's Vaporub, "I'm taking this jar of minty smelling junk that for some reason people slather on their bodies as if it were chocolate flavored body oil!"

"You give that back or I'll—_HACKHACKHACKHACK_—"

"Come and get me! Hahaha—_OOOPH_—" Marik tripped over their gargantuan bag of used tissues.

"I'll get you—_WHEEZEWHEEZE_, _SNORKYSNORT_—now, you sonofabitch!" Bakura said as he pounced—collapsed?—on Marik. "Give it back!"

"No! Never! _ACHOOO_!" A rather hilariously maladroit attempt at a Vicks Vaporub-skirmish ensued.

"THIS IS POPPYCOCK!"

"CEASE YOUR TOMFOOLERY!"

-DING DONG-

...

"'Kuraaaaaaaaaaa!"

**Halloween Special will be written. I swear. (And if anyone has any ideas... for the love of Scott Lynch, please share!) **

**One more big thanks to the upward glance for this chappie! **

**Loveums much,**

**-Eggy**


	30. A Drabbles Halloween Special 2010

**A/N: ****Thank you very much to englisch hilfen. de for providing the Halloween-themed words. ^^**

* * *

_Haunted_

"Ryou, are you sure this'll work?"

Ryou rolled his eyes and continued setting up candles. "If you stop talking, then yes. It will."

Bakura eyed the set up appreciatively. "Damn, but who knew Landlord could be so creepy? Is that a human skull I see?"

"It's plastic, Bakura."

"I don't see why we have to have this in a haunted house," Marik said, pouting in the corner. "Couldn't we do it in, like, your basement or something? Or a well-lit kitchen?"

Bakura grinned. "Aw, are you afraid of ghosts, Marik?"

"Considering I spend so much time with you? Yes, Bakura. Yes I am."

"Oh, so now you're making dead-guy jokes? That's real mature."

"Oh look," Ryou said. "It's Edgar Allan Poe."

Bakura and Marik both screamed and jumped under the table. Ryou chuckled. "That never gets old."

_Costume_

"What the hell are you supposed to be?"

"One of Scott Lynch's brain children."

"Really, Bakura?"

"Really."

"Fine, but if that hat doesn't get us more candy, I'm gonna be pissed."

_Jack-O-Lantern_

"Malik, that pumpkin's looking at me funny."

"Just ignore it, Marik. It's just jealous 'cause you're scarier looking than it."

"Can I smash its face in?"

"No."

"What about that one over there?"

"The one that has the Pharaoh's face carved into it?"

"Yes."

"Oh, look. I seem to be conveniently distracted. Here's a hammer. Don't let anyone see you."

_Magic_

"It's magic," Marik whispered in awe, staring at Bakura's hair. Bakura rolled his eyes. "No, it's hair dye."

"Hair die? As in, you killed it?"

"... Which one of us was born five thousand years ago? Because you're really behind."

"Shh! I'm trying to watch this shiny box! It has pretty pictures on it!"

"'Come on, Marik. We're going to go get candy now."

"Candy? I love candy! It's food from the gods!"

"Actually, it's food from the sugar company, but close enough. Let's go scare some little kids."

_Pie_

Screams filled the air. Lightning flashed. The world shook and collapsed in utter despair as the world realized just how big of a mistake it was to take Marik's pumpkin pie.

_Superstition_

Marik didn't believe in things like zombies or ghosts. Really. Dead people couldn't come back to life, after all. That would just be silly!

Unless, of course, you counted the Pharaoh.

And Bakura.

And that Shadi guy.

And...

Marik decided that he would hide under his couch this Halloween. Just to be safe. Because he wasn't superstitious. Really.

_Treat_

The best part about Halloween wasn't the candy. (Although that was good.) It wasn't about scaring the little kiddies into giving him shit. (Although that was even better.)

No, the real fun thing about Halloween, Marik thought, the _real_ treat, was the chance to dress up and pay Bakura back for every single prank that had ever been played on him the year before. That, he thought as he filled a bucket full of water in preparation, was the coolest part about any holiday anywhere.

"Hey, Bakura! Could you come into this room for a second? I've got a surprise for you!"

_Trick_

'"Trick or Treat?" is such a stupid question," Marik said as he pulled out some eggs from the refrigerator. "I mean, come on! Anyone who knows us is pretty good at figuring out which one we usually pick."

"Quit talking, Marik," Bakura said, "and help me find some more spray paint. That bitch down the street gave me pretzels last year. I want _revenge_."

_Vampire_

"Oh, come on!" Marik moaned. "I thought we got rid of him last year!"

"I know," Bakura said, "but it's Halloween. Who knows what kind of damage he'll be able to do?"

Marik sighed. "On my favorite holiday of the year," he said mournfully. I was actually hoping that I _wouldn't_ have to encounter any wanna-be posers.

"Don't worry. We can bake him into cookies and give him out to little kids."

"Bakura, that's sick! At least put frosting on him first!"

_Mummy_

"Hey, look, Yami—I found your costume!"

"No, Marik."

"Aw, but Pharaoh—"

"No."

Marik pouted. "Spoilsport."


	31. Drinking With You

**A/N: OMIGOD, SHAMELESS PLUG!**

**Not sure if we're ever going to finish this? But anyway, this is an excerpt from chapter six of the fanfic I'm currently co-writing with **_**Cameron Kennedy**_**. (And yes, it actually does have to do with the life of Yami Marik. Don't worry; I'm not **_**that**_** much of a promotion whore.)**

**For your reading convenience, "Yami Marik" is actually being called "Mariku" in this fic. "Marik" is the one who I usually call "Malik," AKA the hikari. Just because. STFU.**

**Premise for Plot: (Because it actually does have one.) **

"**Marik has an awesome plan where nothing can go wrong. Well, nothing except for the stuff that does. On the plus side? Marik makes a much prettier girl than the pharaoh ever would. And with Bakura in the picture... things are going to get interesting."**

**The title of this chapter was taken from a Jonathan Coulton song with the same name. Lookitup. I don't own it, or Yu-Gi-Oh!, unfortunately for my wallet.**

* * *

"Remind me why we're here again?" Mariku muttered into his drink. Or tried to, anyway. He couldn't really tell where the drink was anymore, and it was kind of complicating things.

This, of course, meant that he needed more tequila. Because everything could be fixed with more tequila.

Yami snorted in a very un-pharaoh-like phashion. Er, fashion. (See? That's exactly how much tequila Mariku had had already.) "Dunno, but it's kinda nice that we can actually have a conversation without trying to kill each other isn't it? Or is it? I don't know anymore. It's like... I dunno what it's like. I don't know!" He inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide. "No! No, I don't wanna forget again! _Help me, Mariku!_"

Mariku clapped a hand over Yami's mouth. "Breathe, you asshole. _No_, you idiot, _through your nose_, how the hell do you expect to get air in through my palm? Gods, you're fucked up. Are you quite finished now?"

Yami finished hyperventilating, and Mariku took another sip of tequila. "Yeah," Mariku choked out, continuing their previous conversation, "We can only do this because only because we're so drunking fucked! ... Er, wait... I meant fucking DRUNK, that's what I meant! Yeah!"

Yami laughed. "This makes no sense!"

...Actually, none of it really made any sense. Mariku wasn't technically old enough to be drinking, even, being only about ten years old, but for reasons he couldn't explain he was now at a club. _Drinking_. With Yami, of all people! _Drinking! And getting drunk! With Yami!_

WHAT THE FUCK?

Alcohol, meet Mariku. Yeah, everybody can already tell that you're going to be great friends.

"So how's Marik doing?" Yami asked. He took another swig of vodka and let out a belch. "I bet she's still pissed off over losing her penis and all."

At that, the bartender sent the pair of them an extremely odd glance, but neither of them noticed. "Actually," Mariku continued, oblivious, "she's dealing really damn well. I keep giving her shit about penguin bras - " Yami snorted again at that, " - but otherwise it's like nothing's changed at all! Well, except for the whole boobs thing, but other than that, nothing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Plus, now she actually has a teeny teeny teeny teeny _teeeeeeeny_ tiny fucking shot with Bakura, so I really think - "

Yami spewed his vodka across the bar, much to the dismay of the poor man sitting next to him. "Come again? She wants to sleep with BAKURA?"

"Oh my God, Yami has ears! That actually work! _No shit, Sherlock, that's what I just said!_"

"And you think she has a chance?" Yami almost fell off his stool as he laughed at the thought, which probably would have been bad, seeing as nobody was actually sure what the floor here was made of anymore. Some said it was just gum and old peanut wrappers. Others said that it was made up of the people who laughed too hard and fell off of their stools. You never knew. "Bullshit!" Yami said, holding on to the table to keep himself from falling on to questionable floor. "Gods, what have you been smoking?"

"She does too have a shot!" Mariku retorted angrily, pouting. "Have you _seen_ her? She's like, sex on a stick now. Which I really shouldn't be saying, 'cause I live with her and that's just creepy, but _still_! She's like Barbie now, only hotter and less likely to die of malnutrition."

"_Hah!_ I bet you my fucking deck that they don't end up together anyway. The world doesn't work that way, Mariku. That's like, soap-opera material. In fact, we should just get a patent on this and call it a day-time TV show, 'cause that's about as likely as it is they're gonna hook up."

"OH YEAH?" Mariku bellowed. "I bet my own Ra damned deck that they get in each others' pants by _next Sunday!_"

"You're on!" Yami shouted. "You're so on that fucking Brittany Spears couldn't get you off! YO, BARTENDER, CAN WE HAVE A PIECE OF PAPER AND A PEN OVER HERE?"

Mariku woke up Thursday morning with a ginormous hangover. Why the hell did he have a hangover, exactly? And what the fuck was the red X on his hand for? And was he gonna hurl, because it sure felt like -

Before he finished that thought he had dashed into the bathroom and wasted no time in worshipping the porcelain god. "Aww, shit," he muttered. Knowing that in a few minutes he'd probably have to puke again, he rolled over on the floor with a sigh and put his hands in his jeans for the wait.

"...What the hell?" He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and frowned.

_Don't forget that we bet our decks by next Sunday! Call the bartender from Domino's Downtown Club if you have no idea what this is about the next morning! Which is really likely, since you have the brain capacity of a freaking _goldfish_. Seriously, man. You only drank, like, a million shots, and you couldn't even walk. What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously. _

_-Yami, AKA the Awesomest Pharaoh Ev-ar_

For a brief moment, Mariku really _did_ consider calling that number, but then he remembered: that bet with Yami on having Marik get into Bakura's pants... "Really?" Mariku questioned offhandedly as he slipped the paper into his pocket again. "Next Sunday? Tch. Too easy."


	32. Kitchen Wars

** A/N: ****Okay, tell me: which one of you **_**hasn't**_** read a story where the Yamis get their asses handed to them by kitchen appliances? Revenge, baby. Or... not. Big ol' thanks to **_**Upsilon Four**_** for mentally shaking me and reminding me of this idea, and then being patient enough to wait for me to write it. This one's for you, darling!**

**Disclaimer: Blah. What the hell **_**do**_** I own?**

They were just... staring at him. Like... they knew something he didn't.

He could read it in the way that blender sat perched on the counter, or in the way the toaster oven leaned casually against the wall by the stove. They were ready.

But so was he.

Marik tightened his grip on the electrical cord. Time to end this.

"Well, Marik? Are we going to just stand here, or are we going to actually get our revenge?"

Marik looked over to where Bakura stood next to the fridge, a power drill in his hand. Next to him, Yami fidgeted uncomfortably, looking awkward with his squirt gun pointed aimlessly at the floor. "I really don't think this is a good idea," he said. "You know how many times these things have gotten the better of us." He gestured to the oven "This one set me on fire just last week, and my hair is still singed."

Bakura crossed his arms. "So you're going to let it win? I had a run-in with the toaster just yesterday, but you don't see me backing down. Do you know how many times I've been electrocuted? Gotten my fingers fried? Had my toast burned?" He shook his head. "It's all the more reason to beat these damn appliances now, before they can cause any more damage.

"Besides," Marik chimed in, grinning. "Think of how much easier our lives will be if we just end all this now. Why, I'll never have to worry about that damn microwave again!" He shuddered, casting the aforementioned appliance a wary glance. "I hate that thing. I really, really hate that thing."

Yami bit his lip. "All right, all right. Fine. Let's just get this over with, okay?"

Marik cackled. "Excellent. Now, on the count of three: one... two..."

"_Marik_!"

Marik froze. "Oh no. Oh no no no."

"Marik, where are you? And why is every single light in the house on? Are you _trying_ to cause a power surge? Actually, knowing you, I wouldn't be surprised. Come and open this door!"

Bakura glared at Marik. "I thought you said she was out of the house!"

Marik grimaced. "She was. I have no idea how she got here so quickly..."

Then he froze, his gaze landing on an object sitting innocently just a few feet away.

"Shit," he whispered in horror, pointing to the phone. "They have an inside connection. The damn things must have told her about our plan."

Bakura facepalmed. Yami looked at him, then at Marik, and then toward the door, where they could hear Ishizu fumbling with the lock. "You know what? I never liked this idea in the first place." He strolled toward the window and shoved it open. "Later, losers."

Marik and Bakura looked at each other. "Do you think we still have a chance?" Bakura asked. "They seem to have beaten us this time." He shook his head. "And they didn't even have to use force."

"We're fucked. Let's go."

_This isn't over, you damn machines,_ Marik thought as he ran. _Because I have something that you don't._

"Hey, Marik! What's that in your hand?"

Marik smiled. Victory could still be theirs. "The instruction manuals."

**I'm actually gonna stay on task today and write the X-Mas special, which will be coming to you tomorrow. Seriously. I mean it. I'm not even kidding this time. Really.**

**Reviews. They're cool. Don't you think so?**

**-Eggy**


	33. Careful What You Ask For

**A/N: Short and pointless. XD Yay! This is based on an actual conversation I had with someone via text message. Just FYI.**

"Hey, Marik!"

"Yeah, Bakura?"

"Do you happen to own any guns?"

"Yeah, you can borrow them if you'd like. They're under the bed."

"Thank you. How about knives? Mine have been... confiscated."

"They're in the kitchen, farthest cupboard to the right."

"Sleeper darts?"

"Bathroom drawer. Next to the vials of poison-laced dragon's blood."

"Tazer?"

"Malik's closet."

"Grenades?"

"Malik's pillow."

"Uh... What about a Madonna CD? Do you have one of those?"

Marik looked aghast. "Bakura! That's horrible! Why would you even think I'd leave a weapon like _that_ laying around?"

Bakura shrugged. "No reason."

"Really. You should be more careful with what you ask people for."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."


	34. A Drabbles Christmas Special 2010

**A/N: Okay, so I'm slightly late. XD But my dad pretty much took over the computer to mess with iTunes, and wouldn't let anyone use the internet. And also, I am sick. Which kind of sucks.**

Much thanks and love goes out to wickedchik500, who gave me this idea. I will type up your theifshipping present, love! I promise! *hearts* (Just wait 'till I'm not half dead, kay?)

Disclaimer: I own Christmas and Yu-Gi-Oh! now. Yes. (*is lying*)

Marik scowled, staring moodily into his eggnog. Around him, a Christmas party was in full-swing, complete with the annoying music, the blindingly-sparkly tree, and the wreaths that insisted on jumping out at him and smacking him in the face every time he tried to walk through a door.

Christmas equaled horrible equaled sucked.

"I am not Christian. I will never be Christian. Why the fuck am I celebrating this holiday?" Marik said to Bakura, waving his glass around and just barely managing not to spill eggnog all over the reindeer-printed carpeting.

"It's simple," Bakura said, leaning up against the wall. "There are plenty of perfectly logical explanations for why a group of mainly Egyptian people are celebrating a holiday meant to honor the birth of someone who has nothing to do with their respective religions.

Marik folded his arms. "Name one."

"Well there's... there's... that is..."

Bakura scratched his head. "Well, hot damn. Why the hell are we even doing this?"

So, to prevent their brains from exploding from the sheer lack of logic that the situation seemed to be implying, Marik and Bakura struggled to come up with a list of reasons as to why they were partaking in a Christmas party.

Unfortunately, it was a little harder than they had originally expected.

"Uh... spending time with family?"

"We do that every day anyway, and we don't like it then either."

"Fun songs to sing?"

"No. Just no."

"Spreading peace and good will to mankind?"

"... Marik, what the hell have you been smoking?"

Just then, Yami walked past, whistling merrily and carrying a gift bag under his arm.

Marik and Bakura looked at each other, then pounced.

"Oi, Yami!" Bakura said. "Why do you celebrate Christmas?"

Yami looked at him like he was crazy. "Two words, Bakura: free shit."

And thus, the Christmas mystery was solved.

**So... freaking... pointless. XD Merry Belated Christmas/ whatever it is you celebrate! :D Thank you very much for all of your kind words. They're the best presents you could give me. 3**


	35. Interesting Conversations

**A/N: This was so surreal to write. XD Like, I don't even know. For wickedchik500. Based on a true story. Yeah. For real.**

Disclaimer: Me= not owning.

(P.S.: It's my birthday! :D)  
  
"Malik!"

"What."

"Bakura broke my headphones."

"That's nice."

"Look! The speakers are all shattered out."

"Okay. Hey, do you like red paint for the walls, or green?"

"Red. He had the volume, like, all the way up, and he was blasting something stupid, and the speakers just went "pop!" and then there was no sound."

"Mm. Right. Okay, which picture should I hang on the wall?"

"The one on the left. The right one just looks tacky."

"You sure? So what was Bakura blasting, exactly?"

"Definitely. Look at those flowers. You might as well be jabbing my eyes out with a toothpick."

"Okay, fine. Flowers are a no. Anyway, what was Bakura listening to?"

"Hell if I know. Probably some sort of Satanic cult worshipping shit. Like Justin Beiber."

"Yikes."

"You're telling me."

"Well, what are you asking me to do about it? You can't just go kick his ass and be done with it? Hey, put that vase down! That thing was expensive!"

"Well, where the hell are you planning on putting it? You've got crap all over this room! And yell yeah I can!"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm thinking about moving that bowl over there into the kitchen or something. It just doesn't match the carpeting right. And you couldn't beat anyone up, you wuss."

"Put it in the hall upstairs. It matches the paint. Bitch."

"But the lighting is wrong and you won't be able to see the patterns. Quit commenting on my masculinity. You look just like me."

"Well, see if Ishizu wants it in her room. And I do not look just like you. I'm awesomer."

"All right, whatever. I'll give the vase to Ishizu. Anyway, what were you going to ask me to do to Bakura's sanity?"

"Honestly? Nothing. I don't care about the headphones. I just wanted a say in how you decorated this room. Seriously, you have no taste what so ever. Like that couch cover? Has to go."

"..."

"..."

"... Marik. Guess what I'm about to say right now."

"Um... we'll never speak of this again?"

"Yes. Agreed?"

"... Yeah. Agreed And now, I'm gonna go beat the shit out of Bakura. He owes me new headphones."

"Hurry up! We're doing the dining room next!"

"Be back in five!"

**Again. I do not know. XD**


	36. But if You Were

**A/N: Everyone and his mother has done this fic, I think. XD But still... **_**Avenue Q**_**. That's all I have to say. **

**Disclaimer: **_**Yu-Gi-Oh! **_**is not mine. Neither is **_**Avenue Q**_**. Sadly.**

Malik was going to steal Marik's CD collection. And burn it.

"You can count on me...!"

"Marik..." He wouldn't shut up. He really, really needed to shut up. Or Malik was going to shove a book down his throat.

"To always be...!"

Bakura's book. Because Bakura was probably the one to introduce him to the song anyway.

"Beside you every day...!"

"Marik, I'm going to kill you."

"To tell you it's okay...!"

"Count of five, Marik."

"You were just born that way...!"

"One."

"And as they say...!"

"Two-three-four-five you're so dead if you even think about—"

"It's in your DNA... you're GAAAY!"

"But I'm not gay!"

"If you _were_ gay!"

Dammit.


	37. He Might Have Missed the Mark

**A/N: Hi! :D**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed**

"Marik," Ishizu snapped one day, "you need to be much more organized."

Marik looked up at her innocently. "I am organized! Look, I even made myself a To Do list." He held out a grubby looking piece of paper covered in pencil marks. Ishizu folded her arms. "Oh really? Let's see."

Marik handed her the paper.

_1. Learn how to use a toaster_

2. Find some other way to torment Bakura besides /cutting/replacing/shooting/melting/exercising his books. Eventually, they'll catch on to me, and then their god will smite me. Can't have that.

3. Learn how to bake brownies. (Preferably ones containing pot.)

4. Feed pot brownies to Malik. Laugh.

_5. Teach the Pharaoh's brat to be less of a wimp._

6. Stop referring to Yugi as the Pharaoh's brat if I don't want to get ganked by Yami.

7. Actually win an argument with Ishizu.

8. Shave off Odion's ponytail. (Note: last operation failed. New plan is needed. Possibly one that involves pot brownies.)

_9. Dye Ryou's hair purple. Again._

10. Steal something of Kaiba's.

11. Evade Kaiba's lawyers.

12. Steal Malik's motorcycle.

Evade Malik's bitching

13. Kidnap Bakura and use him as zombie bait. (He's their leader. They'll want him back eventually.)

14. Write a book. Burn shit down when they refuse to publish it. (Or, just skip the writing part. Doesn't really matter.)

15. Make tomorrow's To Do list. It should involve the apocalypse. Or cookies. Either one.

Marik looked at her expectantly.

Ishizu face-palmed.


	38. Hair Day

**A/N: Exactly one-hundred words today. ZOMG. (Also, am totally using this as an excuse to test line breaks. If it doesn't work... fuck this shit.)**

**Just an image that made me lol earlier today. XD**

* * *

"Oh my god."

"The. Hell."

"What's going—Jesus H. Christ on a slice of toast!"

Marik scowled. "Not funny."

Bakura, Yami, and Malik looked at each other. Then they looked back at Marik.

"Bwahahaha!"

"You look like a mop!"

"It's so _long_!"

"There was a storm," Marik said. "I couldn't plug in my hairdryer." He swept his hair off of his shoulders and blew his bangs out of his eyes.

"It goes quite nicely with your cape, I think. And the gold jewelry"

"Fuck off, Yami. Let's take away your hair gel for three days and see how you do."


	39. Revenge of the Mocked

**A/N: Due to popular request... *snerk* This is all dialogue because that's how it wanted to be written. For some reason. I dunno. XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Yu-Gi-Oh! **_**and I most certainly don't own **_**Big, Sexy Hair. **_**(Oh, how I wish...)**

**I figured out how to make line breaks work! :D**

* * *

"Marik!"

"What?"

"This is unacceptable!"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Yami."

"Look! This! I'm talking about this!"

"Oh, you mean the fact that you look like a rolled-out Pomeranian? Because I must say, it's a very flattering style for you."

"Give me my hairspray back, Marik."

"Is this it? '_Big, Sexy Hair_?' Because I think this looks more like 'Poetic Justice.'"

"One of these days, Marik. One of these days."

"I can't hear you: the song of victory playing in my head is too loud."

"You are so lucky I can't see through this curtain of hair right now."

"I know. I appreciate the small things."


	40. Unsatisfactory Products

**The lateness of this... OTL**

**HAVE I TOLD YOU ALL HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU LATELY? Seriously, guys. 400+ reviews. Thank you! Here, have some cookies; they're like delicious little chocolate celebrations.**

**As always, thanks to HereWeGoOnceMore for the beta.**

******Avertissement: Je ne possède pas de Yu-Gi-Oh!**

* * *

To: Villainous Attire, Inc. Support Staff

From: Yami Marik Ishtar

Subject: Unsatisfactory Products

To Whom it May Concern,

Recently, I purchased a Villainously Billowing(tm) Cape from your Intimidate Your Friends(tm) clothing line. The online description assured me that the product would, and I quote, "Ensure your evil victory and highlight your intimidating new title of Supreme Ruler of the World/Country/State/Small Town Grocery Store, all while showing off your great sense of style and wretchedness!" However, upon receiving the product, I was disappointed to find that it did not, in fact, ensure me victory, and it did not intimidate anyone. Actually, it made me look like a vampire who accidentally poured lavender bubble bath into his laundry machine.

Seriously. It's purple. What kind of evil villain wears purple? Villainess, sure, but I don't have the chest for that.

Also, it (the cape, not my chest) had a tendency to get stuck in doors and elevators and over the mouths of small children, not all of whom needed to be conveniently silenced. I am most certain that that is a safety hazard.

I am returning the product and expect a full refund and/or credit for an exchange.

Thank you for your time.

Yours truly,

Yami Marik Ishtar

* * *

To: Yami Marik Ishtar

From: Villainous Attire, Inc. Support Staff

Subject: Re: Unsatisfactory Products

Dear Customer,

Thank you very much for your letter of feedback. We value and appreciate your evil expectations, and we are sorry that your product was not to your diabolical satisfaction. We ask that you please direct all complaints to our online file at www(dot)villainous_attire(dot)com/complaint_bot. Your complaint may or may not be filed as "Inconsequential" or "Stupendously Inconsequential" depending on your success rate as an Evil Villain.

Thank you for choosing Villainous Attire, Inc. for all your horrendous clothing needs.

Sincerely,

The Villainous Attire, Inc. Support Staff

* * *

To: Villainous Attire, Inc. Support Staff

From: Yami Marik Ishtar

Subject: Re: Re: Unsatisfactory Products

Appreciate my Millennium Rod, you bastards. All your capes are belong to me.

-Marik

* * *

To: Yami Marik Ishtar

From: Villainous Attire, Inc.

Subject: Congratulations!

Dear Customer,

Congratulations! You have been randomly selected as Evil Villain of the month! Please visit our website at www(dot)villainous_attire(dot)com to claim your prize: 100,000 dollars-worth of any merchandise of your choice.

Thank you for your continued business with our unbelievably evil company.

Sincerely,

Villainous Attire, Inc.

* * *

To: Bakura

From: Marik

Subject: Free Shit!

(link attached)

I love these guys. Their service is excellent.


	41. Ask Yami Marik

**I came across a comment that EuphraiseTheOwl made a few chapters back, and it gave me this idea. My brain is sort of stuck on this kind of formatting right now. Bear with me. XD**

**Quick question: if I were to illustrate any of the chapters from this fic, which one(s) would you guys like to see? :D**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed and someshit.**

* * *

_Are you confused? Misguided? Delusional? In need of some caring, thoughtful advice?_

_If that's the case, then don't despair! Just write in to our new advice column, Ask Yami Marik, at E.V.I.L Magazine! Marik promises to fix all of your problems, no matter how mundane, time-wasting, or inconsequential they may be._

_(This article was paid for by the MindControledMinions group. Any opinions expressed are not necessarily reflected or supported by the creators of this magazine.)_

* * *

_Dear Yami Marik,_

_I'm having problems with a certain trouble-maker in my home. He is constantly breaking my kitchen appliances, breaking my MOTORCYCLE, tormenting my siblings, stealing my make-up to graffiti our neighbor's lawn, and getting himself thrown in jail. What should I do?_

_Sincerely, Victim of Society's Sociopath_

* * *

Dear _Victim_,

Let him do what he wants. You don't want to know what will happen to you of you don't. Also, give him a later curfew. And a bigger allowance. And tell your sister to stop making him clean his damn room already, since it's just going to get messy again anyway.

Sincerely, Yami Marik

* * *

_Dear Yami Marik_

_I have the most annoying, immature, inconsiderate neighbor ever. He ties me to chairs. He attacks me with garden tools. He STEALS my HAIR GEL. How do I get it through his thick scull that he needs to knock it off right now before I give him a one-way ticket to the Shadow Realm?_

_Sincerely, A Royally Pissed-Off Neighbor_

* * *

Dear _Neighbor_,

Don't bother sending him to the Shadow Realm. He already has a vacation home there.

Maybe this is a situation where the punishments fit the crime. Maybe if you stopped being such a SELF-ABSORBED, EGOTISTICAL ASSHOLE, your neighbor would back off and leave you alone.

That, or you're really fun to pick on. Either way, it's your own damn fault.

Sincerely, Yami Marik

* * *

_Dear Yami Marik,_

_I'm not sure what to do about my roommate. I think he might possibly be trying to summon the dead when I'm away. And the books he keeps in his room are really quite suspicious..._

_Sincerely, Terrified for My Life_

* * *

Dear _Terrified_,

Give me his address. And a copy of his master plan. Then tell him that we're going to have to reschedule, because the night of the full moon is just going to be too cloudy.

Burn the books, though. Burn them all.

Sincerely, Yami Marik

* * *

_Dear Yami Marik,_

_Give me my books back._

_-Bakura._

* * *

Dear _Whoever You Are,_

I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.

Sincerely, Yami Marik

* * *

_Thank you for reading this month's issue of Ask Yami Marik. Please continue to send in your questions, comments, and concerns to E.V.I.L Magazine at 00666 Diabolical Avenue, Abhorred Township, New Jersey._

_And now, turn the page for a full review of the newest villainous fashions of the seasons._


	42. Thank You For Being Normal

**A/N: Just kind of wanted to write this. Yes, I know it's been done to death. XD And look—someone new makes an appearance! Say hi to Atem, everyone!**

**Disclaimer: **_**Yu-Gi-Oh**_**! is as much mine as it is 4Kids'. That is to say, not at all, because they lost the rights. :D**

* * *

Marik frowned and pointed at the three people in front of him. "Wait—you're Bakura, and _you're_ Bakura, but you're _also_ Bakura?"

The three Bakura's looked at each other. "Yes?"

Marik frowned. "But doesn't that get confusing?"

Thief King Bakura shrugged. "It was at first, but you get used to it after a while."

"It's more confusing for the two of us," Ryou Bakura said, gesturing to Yami Bakura. "I mean, we look practically identical. At least Thief King over there can manage to get a tan."

Thief King Bakura gloated.

Marik whistled. "Wow. I don't know how you manage to keep all that straight."

"Keep what straight?"

Marik looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, Yami. We're just talking about how weird it is that there are three of them. I mean, that's gotta be hard to keep track of, right?"

"Who's hard to keep track of?" Yugi asked, walking up to stand next to him. Atem followed behind him, absentmindedly polishing his Millennium Puzzle on his cape.

Marik gaped at the three of them. "There are three of you, too?"

Yami raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"But— how—?"

"Well, there's Yugi, who's the reincarnation," Atem said, "Yami, who's the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, and then there's me, who's the Ancient Egyptian one." He rolled his eyes. "It's really not that hard to remember."

"That's just bizarre," Marik said, shaking his head.

Then he caught sight of Malik walking by, drinking his coffee and not really paying all that much attention to the rest of them.

"Malik!" Marik shouted, running up to greet him.

"Huh?"

Marik grabbed him around the waist and squeezed him in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you for being unconfusing and letting me be your only alter-ego."

Needless to say, Malik was very, very confused.


	43. The Bane of Being a Trading Card

**A/N: My computer keeps periodically crashing on me, so I figured I'd better post this ASAP before it dies completely. **

**Also, I'm pretty sure that warnings of stupidity/crack/pointlessness don't even apply anymore. Do you even expect anything else from me these days? XD**

**I know next to nothing about **_**Pokémon. **_**Sorry. :'D**

**I don't own **_**Yu-Gi-Oh!**_**, **_**Pokémon**_**, or a certain book that may or may not be mentioned here.**

* * *

The Winged Dragon of Ra is starting to get really freaking bored.

And... okay, yeah, it's currently chilling out in a trading card—it's not really expecting its existence to be RIVETING or anything—but a little action would be nice.

And if it has to listen to Plasma Eel and Revival Jam sing "Ninety-Nine Duel-Monsters Cards on the Wall" one more time, it's going to crack.

Ra never got much attention on the dueling field until the very end of the game (it was all sitting around and waiting for someone to actually get up enough life points for him to be able to do something cool) but at least it had SOMETHING to look forward to. Now, no one seems to even PLAY Duel Monsters anymore. They're too busy running around killing, like, zombies, or something. And freaking out over some book— Ra doesn't get why a book is more interesting than it. Can a book destroy its opponents in one blast? No. You know why? 'Cause it's a book.

Honestly.

And the one time — THE ONE TIME— someone even BOTHERED to have a good old fashioned duel, it was over the merits of different greasy fast food restaurants, and it lost to Kuriboh.

There is definitely a glitch in one of those fancy new Duel Disks, because THE Winged Dragon of Ra does not lose duels to Kuriboh.

It's rather sad, Ra thinks, listening to Revival Jam start up another verse. Rather sad indeed.

He's going to defect and become a Pokémon. He would make the most kick-ass Pokémon ever.

And everyone would use him in their Poké-battles and it would be frigging sweet.

Yeah, Ra thinks, closing its eyes for a nap. A Pokéball can't be any worse than a deck of trading cards, right?

And it wouldn't have to share with anyone else, either.

"If you sing that damn song one more time, I'll make sure you never revive AGAIN."

Score.


	44. A Drabbles Halloween Special 2011

**A/N: Hello! Guess what? It's the Halloween Special! And you thought that I forgot, didn't you?**

**Actually, I did. I realized it around two-thirty, but I didn't have time to type anything up until now. **

**Speaking of which, I got a new computer! :D His name is Schnickelfritz, which means "little troublemaker" in Pennsylvania Dutch slang. He's so tiny and adorable! :3**

**Much thanks to _HereWeGoOnceMore _for the inspiraton and beta work.**

**I hope everyone had a wonderful Halloween! *throws candy***

* * *

It started with the goddamn pumpkin.

"_It'll be perfect," _Bakura had said_. "It'll be the best prank ever," _Bakura had said.

Marik was going to murder him.

As soon as he figured out how to destroy the monstrosity that he had created.

"_Well, the weather outside is frightful—"_

Marik buried his head under a ghost-printed pillow.

"_But the fire is so delightful—"_

"Bakura! Bakura, have you figured it out yet?"

"What?" Bakura stumbled into the room, rubbing his eyes and tucking a large book under his arm.

Marik pulled the pillow off of his head. "I _said—_"

"_And since we've no place to go—"_

Bakura whirled and slammed the book down on the table. "Would you be _quiet?"_

The pumpkin shut its mouth. Then it opened it again and began a riveting rendition of "Jingle Bells."

Bakura groaned.

Yami poked his head through the door, combing out of his hair the last bits of pumpkin from the Jack o' lantern-carving contest he and Bakura had started earlier.

With chainsaws.

That had gone over well.

"What in Ra's name is making that horrendous noise?"

Marik pointed wordlessly to the pumpkin sitting on the table. It had just finished "Jingle Bells" and was starting on a soulful "Christmas Shoes."

"_Sir, I wanna buy these shoes for my momma, please—"_

"Oh, sweet Jesus."

"We were just trying to make it talk," Bakura said, gesturing to the pumpkin. "We thought—"

"_You _thought," Marik said.

"_I _thought that it would be funny to scare kids with," Bakura said. "I never thought that it would turn into… this."

"_So I laid the money down,"_ the pumpkin said innocently_. "I just had to help him out—"_

Marik slammed the pillow down on top of it.

From underneath, there was a muffled, "_Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum_?"

"NO."

Bakura picked his book back up. "I'm trying to find some sort of counter-curse," he said, "but so far, no luck."

"Can't I just banish it to the Shadow Realm?"

"Tried it."

"Did you smash it?"

"Yep."

"Stab it?"

"With six knives and a cheese cutter."

"Burn it?"

"Twice."

"And it came _back_?"

"It's the Antichrist," Marik whispered.

"There has to be something we can do with it."

They stared at it.

* * *

Seto Kaiba hated Halloween. He didn't have time for it, and the damn brats that ran up to his mansion sure as hell didn't need any more sugar.

But most of all, he hated the pranks.

Every year. Toilet paper, bags of shit, eggs… he'd seen it all.

And ding-dong-ditching. Always. It was like those kids didn't know what security cameras were for.

Usually, he just locked himself in his study and didn't come out until the stupid holiday was over, but he had come down for a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang.

Resigning himself to yet another meaningless joke, Kaiba yanked open the door. "What?" he snapped.

There was no one there.

Then he looked down.

"_Here come the bells, sweet Christmas bells—"_

"What the—"

"_Here—come – the bells!"_


	45. Motorcycles? Motorcycles

**A/N: ****I feel like after all this time I should have more than sixty chapters. I'm lazy. What can I say?**

** Uh. I've finally started paying attention to season four. /shot. **

**So, some new characters. Yay. Bending canon a bit. How is this anything new?**

**(They should have a club. And there should be t-shirts.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Yu-Gi-Oh!, **_**its characters, or a motorcycle.**

* * *

Marik was really freaking bored.

He had thought and re-thought his dueling strategy. He had wandered the shadows until his legs had given out. Then he had gotten back up and wandered some more.

He had sung "Ninety-Nine Duel Monsters Cards on the Wall."

Six-hundred times.

He was officially out of things to do.

Marik tapped his fingers against his knee and sighed, shuffling through his deck once again. Same cards. Same thing.

This sucked so hard.

And he had lost due to a damn default. His stupid, boring alter-ego and his delusions of grandeur. Saving the day was so over rated.

Then again, it also saved your ass from getting kicked into the Shadow Realm.

He could see the benefits.

"Son of a BITCH!"

Marik's head snapped up. Was that—?

"Oh, great! Of all the people I had to get stuck with after losing my bloody SOUL—"

"Shut up! I was here first!"

"Yeah, you LOST first!"

Marik grinned.

"Hello!" he called. "Who's there?"

The bickering voices stopped abruptly.

"… Did you learn how to throw your voice while you were gone or something?"

"Did you get more stupid? Of course I didn't. There's someone else in here."

"Oooh."

Marik peered into the darkness. Two figures were walking towards him, thoroughly engrossed in arguing with each other.

"Hi," Marik said.

The first person—a guy, Marik thought, but there was serious room for doubt—held up a hand for the guy next to him to shut up. He glared at Marik. "Who are you?"

"Oh, no one special. Just a guy who happens to be the embodiment of some kid's anger and rage. What about you?"

"Members of a motorcycle gang who lost their souls to an evil trading card."

"… Did you say motorcycle?"

"Yes?"

"I used to have motorcycle."

The newcomers looked at each other. Then the second kid turned back to Marik. "I like you. I'm Valon. This is loser is Alister."

Marik grinned. "Welcome to the club."

"What club?"

"The I-lost-my-soul-in-a-card-game-because-of-ancient-magic-that-makes-no-sense-club."

"… Do you have t-shirts?"

"We could?"

Valon grinned and held out his hand. "Nice to meet ya."

"Who else is here?" Alister asked, folding his arm and looking around. "It seems pretty empty."

"Well," Marik said, "there's usually another guy, but he's off planning world domination again. Or he's refurbishing his summer home. Something like that."

They stood awkwardly in silence for a minute. Then Valon said, "So. Uh. Anybody want to play a card game?"

Marik grinned.

This could work.


	46. A Drabbles Christmas Special 2011

**A/N: Hello, boys and girls. Merry Christmahanaquanzica Day.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Yu-Gi-Oh!. _Or Santa. Which is probably a good thing.**

* * *

Santa Claus sometimes wondered why he'd ever taken this job in the first place.

It had its benefits, but really. Children's smiles and bringing joy to the world— and free cookies, ccouldn't forget those—were nice, of course, but sometimes, the rest of it was just too darn much.

Like the list. Oh, how he hated the list. He couldn't stand marking people down as "naughty." Some people did terrible, horrible things, but others weren't so bad, really, and having to lump the millions and billions of people and the things they did and their reasons for doing them into two incredibly broad categories like "naughty" and "nice" was beyond difficult. It was like he was on jury duty all year long. And he tried to curve things as much as he could, but that wasn't always easy when you were having such a hard time trying to find something good to say about someone.

Santa was a firm believer that everyone was good at heart, but honestly. There had to be a limit.

Kidnapping Santa Claus definitely pushed that limit.

Yep. Kidnapping Santa.

Kids these days.

"I'll ask you again," perpetrator number one said. Santa recognized him. Creepy spirit who lived in that ring. He'd asked for a set of kitchen knives for Christmas last year. Santa had brought him spoons.

What? They wouldn't let him take knives past customs. International airport security was a horror.

"Ask me what?" Santa said tiredly. Oh, he was going to be so behind schedule. Mrs. Claus was going to kill him.

"Where is your base of operations?"

"It's the North Pole, you moron," said Marik, Bakura's partner in crime. "Duh."

"Shut up and let me do this."

Santa was fairly certain that Marik had his own filing cabinet in the records room. It had yellow CAUTION tape wrapped around it.

"Boys," Santa said, "can we get this over with? I still have three billion houses to visit, you know."

Marik and Bakura ignored him in favor of starting an argument over the benefits of tying him to the Christmas tree.

Santa sighed and reached for the cookies. It was going to be a long night.


	47. Justification

**A/N: Over the next few days or so, "Drabbles" is going to undergo a HUGE renovation. This includes the removal of some chapters and massive editing of most others. Thanks for your patience.**

**I think this chapter is pretty accurate.**

* * *

"Do you ever get the feeling we're being used?" Bakura asked.

"What?" Marik said.

"Think about it. We sit around and do absolutely nothing since our show finished except cater to the whims of fans who think it's amusing do watch us to stupid things like kiss each other on the mouth. Your greatest crime lately was trying—and failing—to take candy from a little old lady, and the last card game you played decided nothing more than the standing of a fast food restaurant. Don't you wish you still had a _purpose? _A _plot _that had more to it than thirteen-year-olds writing 'lol, truth or dare?' What even justifies our existence anymore?"

"What? Sorry, I missed most of that. I'm trying to reconstruct the Eifel Tower using marshmallows."

Bakura sighed. "Never mind," he said.

"Okay. Wanna help?"

"… Sure."


End file.
